Struggle Season

The studio is vibrant

chaotic

totally messy

and I don't give the last bit any mind right now:

I can't

.

In this single moment that keeps its infinite replenishment

I am rich in choices and

determined to keep my eyes on the north star.

The last few months have given me vantage enough to see

that some pieces have to fall away for the health of the whole.

Like having a precious, dust-free studio.

Like getting back to everyone as quickly as I'd like.

Like economizing so much that I forgo important healing modalities like therapy or a physical.

As a positive, the good idea of focusing my work in a singular direction as opposed to the smattering of everything I've been trying to balance.

Holy cats, that's a lot of plates!!

I'm in the process of something special and exciting, narrowing focus and expanding at the same time, like putting all my growth into one arm and having it stretch to Connecticut.

I'm excited.

I'm dreaming and planning and knowing that this is going to take some time, so that dreaming and planning has a pace not unlike a marathon.

No sprinting, not yet.

Mostly I'm feeling the incredible and generously challenging time as the mother of a three year old in a really deep place. It guts me.

It sends me over the moon some days (a happy cow?)

and TO the moon other days, as though I was ka-pow-ed there.

I had a lot of days when O was one and two where I was like, "Whoo!!! I nailed that!!"

but I don't have those right now. 

I am cautious in my celebration because tomorrow

might make me a living embodiment of Murphy's Laws,

 my mouth set in a grim line as someone small rages in the back seat.

Being the adult, being loving and supportive

while also drawing boundaries and taking no mess.

A lot of mothers I talk to say that they felt a profound exhaustion when their kid(s) were

three.

It doesn't negate the beauty, that tired aspect;

it just stretches out the crap moments.

We forget to remember that taking naps are doctor's orders.

That we can tap out and go sit by ourselves.

That we do not always have to be 'fun mom'

or live up to every cultural expectation of what a working mother is:

not every single aspect of a balanced life wins every single day.

Struggle is a season, short in retrospect

but so long in the living.

So.

So yeah, my studio's a hot mess

but I am still in there as often as I can be, collecting notes

from God

and doing everything in my power to see them through

to form

.

xoxo,

Sunny

Friday

Elm Seed and Seed Bead Magic Spells. Brass, sterling, glass.

Amethyst and Bronze Cast Wishbone.

Sterling Silver Three Leaf Clover Necklace

Little Cosmos Bracelet Set

A well-rounded little collection, bound for

The Metal Shop

Friday.

Have a beautiful day,

Sunny

Tomorrow Afternoon

It started with a few inquiries about whether or not I would be making any bee wing necklaces in the near future...

and I mentioned it just so happened that I would be: I made two and a beetle wing necklace, a first. 

Then my mommy came to visit, and the studio has been LIVED in.

Really lived in, sung in, cried in, celebrated in.

There is a lot afoot at the Circle-K if indeed the Circle-K is the universe.

I am full.

The shop will be, too:

tomorrow afternoon some really lovely things will be there.

Debutant Ring, size 6. Pure Cast Sterling Silver. Heavy and gorgeous.

Wishbone Necklace. Sterling silver Chicken Bone. Mother of Pearl.

Holy Molter Earrings. 24k gold. Sterling silver. Snakeskin. Amber. Sleeping Beauty Turquoise.

A beautiful and loving evening to you, dear Reader.

xoxox,

Sunny

Tenacity Necklace

The leaf was there in my wiper blades for months. Through rain (didn't drive much during the rainy days, but still used to blade quite a bit to clear the spring pollen), through freeway jaunts up and down the peninsula, past the Golden Gate and all around the city…

A spiky scrub oak leaf. 

Hanging out, hanging on.

I ignored it for a few weeks and figured that eventually a strong gust would take it.

After about a month and a half I was wonder-struck by it and

thought it to be good luck.

At eight weeks I was slapped with the beautiful realization

that I was witnessing grace and tenacity,

taught by a fucking LEAF in my wiper blade.

I took it out and gave it a perfect roll, the perfect rest.

Now for the pink sapphire:

I bought it at an antique store. It was badly broken on its sides (which I fixed with my lapidary equipment) and marred on its top near the apex of the perfectly clear star (which I did not fix on account of that perfect star).

Sapphires are a nine on the Mohs scale, right behind diamonds. 

They are HARD.

Whatever it took to break that sapphire and chip its top curve was strong.

Possibly brutal-

And yet, here it is, singing

a perfectly imperfect song

of remaining

despite

.

I am going to put this stunning marriage into the metal shop later this week.

I want you to think good and hard about the magic in these parts,

about the power of the whole.

Even if it's just through these stories,

this picture

I want you to take heart.

I want you to fall into their tenacity and be lifted.

By a rock and a leaf.

What?

Right.

You can call me batshit crazy, but every time I look at these two

I feel a bit better about this world, this life.

They are small and meek but ridiculously mighty.

The mirror image is going to someone I love who embodies

their power and then some, so there will only be one of these in the shop.

Here's to the beauty of tenacity, to a beautiful day.

xoxo,

Sunny